An Epistle For The Scoobs Poem by Shannon Walker

I blow your pictures up a lot,
So that they fill my screen
And stare into the pixels;
All of those little brown dots
That make such a wonderful scene,
Like a green meadow, an occasional thistle
Looking so at home in the hot
Afternoon breeze, swaying and serene.
I can almost hear a kid whistle
In the distance. Maybe he forgot
That this was nothing but a dream,
The way that I did,
Until I shrunk your picture back down
And saw that your beautiful brown eyes
Were just pixels on my cell phone screen.